


Distillation

by pascallionsbox



Series: Tipping the Scales [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Dragon AU, F/M, we be putting the dragons back into dungeons and dragons lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:34:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27594206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pascallionsbox/pseuds/pascallionsbox
Summary: Veth knew she should stay away from the settlements. The danger of mages and dragon poachers was everywhere but the Mighty Nein's territory was far away enough that they could live unbothered for the rest of their lives, safe from all the terrors that dogged at their heels of their past. Yet, no dragon could resist the urge to add to their horde and unfortunately, Veth's penchant for little manmade trinkets would probably land her in some trouble some day. But really, what were the odds of that?--[Dragon AU]
Relationships: The Mighty Nein & Nott | Veth Brenatto, Yeza Brenatto/Nott | Veth Brenatto
Series: Tipping the Scales [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2017253
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	Distillation

**Author's Note:**

> Did anyone ask for a TM9 Dragon AU? No! Did I write it anyway? :3 The idea of this self-indulgent AU has been bouncing around my head for ages but I never got the time to actually write it all out. As you can tell from the summary and tags, this is a Dragon AU in which all of the Nein are different kinds of dragons! This fic is a little simple and is focused mostly on Veth meeting Yeza but I have some plans for the rest of the Nein as well. Ideally there will be a whole series of fics set in this AU so maybe if you don't care as much for Veth/Yeza, you might like some of the others?

“ _ One of these days, you’re going to get yourself in a situation you can’t shift yourself out of. And then where will we be?  _ ”

Veth’s last conversation with Caleb echoed in her head as the thick metal bands crashed down on her back, crushing her wings and snout closed. Barbed metal lashed across her legs and pierced past her scales as she collapsed to the ground, completely ensnared.

A growl built up in her throat at the indignity of it all. How stupid of her. She had never been the smartest dragon, not out of her brood nor her friends. But she should have known to keep an eye out for these traps and this was what her distraction has cost her. The trap was clearly meant for a dragon and dragon poachers only rest when they’re in flaming graves.

But there was a reason Veth was out in these woods, just a few miles away from the nearest settlement, and not her friends. 

Ignoring the way her legs pinned underneath her, she forced herself to take a breath. When she exhaled, it was with magic bubbling underneath her scales. She let it wash over her, pushing and pulling at her malleable form until with a flash of light, she was kneeling on the ground in her much smaller halfling form. Around her, the metal bands clang to the ground at the loss of support.

Her dragon self may be smaller and weaker than say Beau, but even Veth had to admit, being a shapeshifter dragon had its perks.

The second that thought occurs to her though, there was a flash of blue out of the corner of her eye. Before she could even react, arcane runes flared bright against the metal bands and her magic burned away from her in an agonizing heat. Immediately, the metal snapped up, violently restraining her once more scaly limbs.

In vain, she tried again to transform back but clearly, whoever set this trap knew what they were doing. Only a mage could have accomplished something like this.

She’s fucked.

Now that the spell enchanting the trap knew she was a magically-oriented dragon, whatever precautions the mage must have set were in full swing. Any attempt to summon her magic caused the runes to light up again, sending a wave of burning nausea through her as the trap chiseled at her strength and magic. 

Away from her anxiety-addled mind and shaking body, Veth distantly wished she were like Yasha with her brute strength. Veth was a shapeshifter and not even a good one at that! She only had the one trick and this trap had taken it from her. Between her too-quick breaths, she tried to choke back the rage and humiliation roaring into her throat.

Underneath it all, a cold pit of dripping fear was beginning to form in her stomach. If she could not get out on her own, there was no doubt that her friends would start to worry. Worse, they might even come looking for her.

Most dragons were very distinctly solitary creatures, and even then, they only really interacted within their own species. The Mighty Nein were… a little different from most dragons. If she didn’t return within the week like she said she would, they’d definitely try to enact some rescue mission.

She couldn’t have that happen. If this trap was any indication, whoever was out hunting dragons knew what they were doing and how to counter draconic magic. She shuddered to think about what might happen to someone like Caleb or Jester who had much more magic than her piddling little reserve. No, she had to get out on her own.

But it was hard to focus as the runes burned and the metal ate at her strength. Her vision swam and it’s only through sheer willpower that she managed not to pass out at the next wave of nausea. Desperately, she tried to shift again and again but nothing. Her magic leeches away into the metal too quickly for her to grasp. Finally, in a last ditch effort, she thrashed around in an attempt to break free. 

Veth can’t be caught. She can’t, she  _ can’t _ . She had heard of the awful things that happen to captive dragons whom mages see as little more than a regenerating source of spell components and magic.

Her scales are a dull, dark green and not nice to look at, nothing at all like Caduceus’s blend of glittering pink-green or Fjord’s iridescent sea-dragon scales. Maybe if she had a better hold of her magic like her brothers did, she could actually be proud of how she looked. Instead, every surface of water serves as a reminder of another way she is just a failure of a dragon. But although they might not fetch a pretty penny amongst collectors, she knew any mage worth their salt could make some fucked-up powerful spell or potion out of the inherent magic in her scales.

Then, the foliage rustled to her left and her fuzzy vision snapped towards the sound of careful footsteps.

The hunter, returning for their prey.

The thought was almost enough to set her thrashing again before a wavering voice called out, “He--Hello? Is anyone there?”

A small halfling with scruffy brown hair cautiously stepped out from the bushes, casting his gaze around the forest. At the sight of her, he yelped, ducking back into the plants, eyes widening with horror behind round glasses.

Veth let out a low rumbling growl from deep within her throat, the metal clenching her jaw shut preventing her from doing anything more. From the bushes, she could hear a quiet litany of “Oh no, oh no, oh  _ no _ .”

This probably wasn’t the mage who set the trap but that didn’t mean he was safe. The man was most likely from the nearby halfling community she liked to frequent and although mages did not live there in that tiny town, they had ways of getting messages to them and arriving quickly.

Despite her warning growls, the man eventually crept forward out of the bushes, trembling in his boots. He clutched to the straps of a large backpack, seemingly trying to shrink behind them in some way. Still, he crept closer.

Veth summoned what little was left of her strength, lashing her tail angrily against the ground in a cacophony of crashing metal. In retaliation, the spellwork flared and hot-white pain shot through her as she shrieked through clenched teeth.

When the dust and her vision cleared, the halfling man was backed up against a tree with clear terror written across his face. Not retreating back to his precious bushes.

So this was how she would go. Her pain gawked at like some spectacle before being delivered to an agonizing fate. She shut her heavy eyes. She didn’t care anymore. She didn’t have the strength too.

Her friends would not come looking for her until a week had passed and she failed to return home with her usual bounty. By then, Veth would be long gone, either slain or forever locked away in some wizard’s tower. Still, she could not help but feel grateful that she never let any of them come along on one of her excursions. They’d never been exactly happy that she insisted on making regular trips to the village, even if they understood. All dragons had a hoard, after all. It was nigh impossible to resist the urge to keep adding to it. Veth and her magic was quiet enough to let her scavenge through the town without leading anyone back to their territory so they had let her go in the end, further placated by the gifts she’d bring back for everyone’s hoard. And now, her love for manmade baubles and knickknacks would be the end of her.

At least this way, the Nein would only face a single, small loss. Oh sure, Jester and Caleb had endlessly tried to convince her to let them come along. But the two of them, although amazingly talented in other magic, did not have the same prowess for shapeshifting as her species of dragon did. Caleb could get pretty darn close but could never completely hide his scales or once, even his tail.

Veth smiled faintly at the memory, remembering the way Caleb had stumbled around on awkward new human legs as the weight of his tail lurched him back. Beau had teased him mercilessly about it, claiming that when she called him a bastard, she didn’t mean it  _ literally _ , Caleb!

She would never get to see them again, grief welling up in her at the thought. There was so much she hadn’t gotten to do yet. Who would bring the others gifts from town for their hoards? Some of them could manage without her but how would Caleb get his books now? Or Jester and her pastries and clothes? She imagined Caleb, tripping over his clumsy tail and human words as he tried to venture into town by himself. He would be shot on sight and the townsfolk would be whipped into a frenzy and start hunting for dragons. The Nein would be chased out of the life and territory they had fought so hard for. It would be all her fault. She had failed them. 

“There!” The halfling man gasped out, shocking Veth’s eyes open once more. She hadn’t realized he had gotten so close in her haze of pain. With a terrified squeal, he took off for the trees. There was a small thump as whatever he was holding fell to the ground and then, a much louder one as the sharp metal clattered to the ground around her.

Without the restraint, Veth’s breath came to her quickly as she looked around in shock. The metal bands lay inert in the dirt, the blue runes flickering in and out weakly before fading completely. A murky, liquidy paste streaked haphazardly across them, fizzling against the symbols. The halfling’s backpack lay deserted, tiny tools, herbs, and plants scattered on the ground.

Somehow and for some reason, he had freed her.

Veth stood up on shaky legs, her magic surging back within her now that it wasn’t being leached away. Caustic marks lashed across her scales where the trap had sunk its teeth and it felt as if she had been burned.

But she was alive and standing. 

She shot her wings out, hissing in pain as the raw muscles ached and protested. Just before launching herself into the air, her eyes caught one more time on the abandoned tools. She didn’t recognize any of them. Her friends really only ever wanted books or pretty swathes of fabric. Fjord in particular had absolutely no taste and wanted nothing from the towns, content with his soggy salvages from undersea wrecks. At least Yasha and Caduceus asked for flowers, which while not halfling-exclusive, were at least not marinated in salty seawater for years.

There was no reason to take them. When the mage came to check their traps, Veth would be far far away, safe in her den with her friends. What would they think, finding nothing but their ruined trap and these tools?

What would they do?

Veth glanced in the direction the halfling had tore off in, trampling whatever plants lay in his path. He was out of sight, no doubt convinced the savage dragon would eat him if he didn’t run. As if she couldn’t catch up with him if she really wanted to.

\---

Yeza could almost convince himself that the day before had been a terrible, ridiculous dream. He laid in his bed, imagining going into town and stopping to buy his usual groceries at Edith’s. 

“ _ Oh yes _ ,” He would say, casually examining an apple for bruises, “ _ Yesterday I went to the part of the woods the mages told us to stay away from to look for ingredients again. Yes, yes I know Edith, I shouldn’t but that’s where all the good stuff grows. It’s not fair that the mages get to keep a portion of our forest to themselves when they don’t even live here! Anyway, it’s not as dangerous as they say it is. All I found was a big green dragon caught up in a trap! And then I freed it, is all. _ ”

Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. Yeza couldn’t get through many sentences without nervously stumbling over his words. The only time his nerves and hands were steady were when he was working on his potions and experiments, his lab the only place he ever really felt safe in. Which, really, was ironic, considering how many dangerous liquids sat in vials lining the shelf, but he digressed.

The point was, there was no way Yeza not only found a live dragon but also freed it! And somehow  _ lived _ !

But whenever Yeza sat up from his bed, the conspicuous absence of his trusty old backpack and his field tools from their corner of the room stared back at him. 

He flopped back down into his pillow, hysterical giggles bubbling up in his throat. Did he have a death wish? What was wrong with him?

He had known dragons, although extremely rare, did exist. Still, when Cerberus Assembly mages had come by, sectioning off a portion of the forest and laying their traps for magical creatures, he had scoffed and said they were wasting their time. He had never actually entertained the idea that there might be a dragon so close to home! And like a fool, he had freed it, practically inviting it to burn the town to the ground.

He hadn’t been able to help himself. He had been about to run for his life, sounding every alarm possible in town to get the mages’ attention. 

But Yeza had seen the sheer terror and  _ agony _ in the creature’s eyes as the magic from that vile device caused it to scream. Although he had never worked with dragon pieces himself, as an alchemist, he knew that only more pain awaited the creature. It had glared at him, depths of intelligence brimming underneath all that fear.

So, using what little materials he had collected and stored in his pack, he had done what he could to put together a mishmash of components that caused the spellwork woven into the steel to fall apart at its seams.

Dread sank its claws into his stomach and he buried his face in his pillow. He had been too afraid to go back for his precious belongings, having locked himself in his house since that afternoon. Would the mages recognize them as the incriminating evidence they were? 

Probably. Even if he weren’t the only alchemist in town, he wouldn’t be surprised if Lady Vess DeRogna could simply wave her fingers and figure out he had been the one to sabotage their plans.

He was done for. All because he was too damn soft for a big overgrown  _ lizard _ . 

A tentative rap at the door made his heart leap into his throat. Did they already know? Were they here for him?

The knock came again, more insistent this time. Heart thudding dully in his chest, Yeza finally got up, shoving his glasses on as he moved towards the front of his house. Even though it wouldn’t matter in the end, he ran his hands vainly through his bushy hair in an attempt to  _ not _ look like he literally just rolled out of bed. Finally, incapable of delaying it any longer, Yeza steeled himself and yanked open the door.

A young halfling woman with dark skin, not Lady DeRogna, stood in front of him, hand raised mid-knock. She wore a simple yellow dress, her dark brown hair twisting down in braids and a necklace of colorful buttons hanging from her neck. She took a step back in surprise, bright amber eyes flickering up to meet his before dropping back down. Following her gaze, he froze at the sight of his backpack on the ground, leaning against her ankles.

“Listen, I am  _ so  _ sorry--”

“Um! I found this!” The woman interrupted the words spilling out of his mouth, eyes wide as she flapped her hands in the air in front of her. “In the woods, I mean. I found this in the woods. It’s yours, right?”

“You… found it?” Yeza repeated, brain chugging along too slowly to comprehend. The woman stumbling through her words as her face went pink didn't seem like she was part of the Assembly. But despite her apparent nerves, Yeza couldn't help but stare at her. As terrified as he was of the Assembly, he couldn't deny that most of them possessed a certain beauty and power that made it hard to look away. 

This woman was no exception. Her clothing was far more simple than the average Assembly member's robes but his gaze couldn't help but linger on the vivid color of her eyes and the assortment of buttons framing the dark skin of her neck. He had never seen this person before. He surely would have remembered.

She nodded frantically, “In the woods! I was on a walk when I found it. It looked like somebody dropped it. And I uh, asked around and found out it belonged to you…” She glanced up at his shop’s sign above the door, reading “Mr. Yeza Brenatto?”

“Y--Yes. It’s mine, thank you so much!” Yeza scooped up the bag, hugging its familiar roughness and weight to his chest. A heavy relief sank through him as he gave a shaky smile to his savior. “I can’t believe you just found it! I can’t thank you enough, oh my gosh. I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met. You’re not from Felderwin, are you? Are you a traveler?”

“Yeah, something like that. I live pretty far from here,” She looked down at her boots, tapping a toe against the cobblestone. “Anyway, I just wanted to return that to you so I should really get going. I'm glad you could get your stuff back.” She took a step back, beginning to turn around.

Yeza must be getting sick or something because he could hardly understand himself nowadays. He had never been a creature of impulse. He had always been content to stay inside in his lab, only ever venturing out to gather materials from the woods. His days were simple, predictable, and easy to manage. He had heard stories of townsfolk running afoul of Assembly members, developing grudges and a false sense of bravado against the powerful mages. There was a reason they were only stories now.

So when Lady Vess DeRogna visited his shop to enlist his help, he didn't ask any questions. He only complied because Yeza  _ stays in his lane _ . Because Yeza stays away from trouble, even if it comes knocking on his door.

And yet once more, he found himself inexplicably moving, frantically grabbing at the woman's wrist to stop her from leaving.

“Wait, wait!” He let go, immediately sorry for her startled expression. “This really means a lot to me. Won’t you come in for some tea so I can thank you properly? Please, what’s your name?”

The molten amber of her eyes was fascinating to study, almost uncanny. If he stared into them long enough, it felt as if it might give way into something else, something  _ new. _

The woman cocked her head, studying him right back. The heat of her intoxicating gaze burned right into him, as if he were being distilled down into his bare components. No secrets could stand its ground underneath it but really, what did he have to hide?

Finally, a small smile flitted across her face, "Actually, tea sounds great. I can stay for a bit, Mr. Yeza."

He dropped his backpack beside the door inside his hair, quickly stepping back to push the door open. He could put his stuff away properly later.

"What's your name? You-- you know mine, so it's only fair." He blurted out as the woman began to step over the threshold and into his home.

She paused, considering both the question and him. Then, clasping her hands behind her back, she grinned. 

"My friends call me Nott. Nott the Brave.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey thanks so much for reading this little self-indulgent thing! I haven't written in ages and I'm still a little rusty so please bear with me! Anyway, as the beginning notes said, this is going to be a series if I can keep up the motivation. The next fic will *probably* be Fjord-centric because I have some things planned out already. But if any of you have suggestions/ships you would like to see, I'd love to hear it! I like so many different combinations of ships in CR, it's really hard to just pick one haha.
> 
> I'm @pascallionsbox on Tumblr! As always, kudos and comments are really encouraging and are ever appreciated!


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